


It’s been a while

by AntivanCrows



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Not the sexy kind just for the aesthetic, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, does it count if you get turned on by your own dirty talk, kinda???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 21:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntivanCrows/pseuds/AntivanCrows
Summary: “I’m pretty sure it can be done with clothes on, dear Quire. But you are the Inquisitor, so I have no choice but to follow your orders.”“Call me Inquisitor one more time and I’ll lock you out in the balcony.”





	It’s been a while

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been trying to write smut for, hell, years now. And all of a sudden this I get a huge burst of confidence this morning and I make this.  
> Also if the beginning sounds weird, it’s because it’s technically a part of something else that isn’t done yet, I just wanted to post the smut part  
> EDIT: I took out one of the parts that kinda bothered me when I wrote it and replaced it with something more fluffy and stupid

You hear the telltale click of the door opening before you can read more and you quickly close the book and set it aside, standing up from your chair. Footsteps, creaking wood. It was almost night, if it’s some scout with some dumb paperwork you had to correct you were going to fucking strangle them-  
  
“So!”  
  
That is most definitely not the voice of a servant or a scout, and you let out a sigh of relief. Dorian finally reaches the top of the stairs and Maker, he’s a sight for sore eyes. Speaking of eyes; his seem to be glittering with mischief, his predatory gaze locked on yours and oh that’s right, the “you might find something interesting in your quarters” discussion. You really should come back to your room more often instead of sleeping on the roof or on the war table.    
  
“It’s all very nice, this flirting business. I, however, am not a nice man,” He says, and even though his voice is light and casual there’s definitely something else there that sends shivers up your spine. For now, though, you let this play out, let him walk across the room to you.  
  
“So here is my proposal,” Maker, he is way too casual about this and it’s almost frustrating, “We dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more... primal.”  
  
Oh. That? That was not casual at all, that was a full on growl at the end that, again, reminds you of a predator.  
  
And he looks the part, too; circling you like a wolf stalking a halla, watching it’s every movement, waiting for that moment of weakness to strike.  
  
“It’ll send tongues wagging, of course. Not that they aren’t already wagging,” He continues. You can feel your hands shaking (‘why now’, you silently curse) and you put them on your hips to hide it. Also to make yourself look bigger. You are not the halla and you are going to prove it.  
  
“I suppose it all depends,” When did he get behind you? He was just in front of you, how did he-  
  
Dorian leans in, lips mere centimeters from your ear, breath warm against the side of your face and whispers, “How _bad_ does the Inquisitor want to be?”  
  
His mustache tickles your ear. You can feel his lips moving, most definitely smirking. And you’ve never heard his voice get that deep before and it’s doing things to you.  
  
You quietly accept that you are the halla being stalked by the wolf.  
  
“I thought you’d never ask,” You finally reply, surprised at how level your voice was. In fact, you weren’t as nervous as you expected. You were eager, excited.  
  
Probably because it‘s been two years since you’ve had sex and your patience has officially run out.  
  
“I like playing hard to get,” He lowers his head and starts biting gently at the skin of your jaw. You can’t hold back the sigh and you tilt your head to the side to give him more access. You already feel tiny sparks of arousal shooting through your body.  
  
“And now?” You turn around, and for a moment, take in the height difference. It’s not dramatic, not like if you were standing next to Bull or Normandy. But Dorian is a few inches taller than you, enough that he has to bend down somewhat to do things like kiss you or bite your neck. That has never failed to make your stomach feel fuzzy.  
  
His voice is soft and full of promise when he murmurs, “I’m gotten.”  
  
And then he kisses you.  
  
It’s nothing like the kisses you’ve shared before, quick and chaste, hints of tenderness and affection that Dorian would probably deny existed, trying to make the most of a small window of peace. It starts like that, sure. But then the dam breaks and your hands are everywhere now, clutching to fabric and trying to get under it, trying to feel the skin underneath. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip and you let out a gasp that’s very close to a moan. You feel him trying to steer you to the bed as he slips his tongue into your mouth and wow, it has been a long time indeed.  
  
Walking and kissing is very hard to do, especially with your head quickly becoming foggy, but when the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress you use the last scraps of lucidity you have to break the kiss and spin him around. He falls onto the bed with a light thump and you follow, straddling his hips and leaning down to keep kissing him-  
  
You pause, your lips inches from his.  
  
You can feel him half hard under his breeches. And it’s pressing right against your ass.  
  
This time, the noise that tumbles out of your mouth is definitely a moan.  
  
You sit up, quickly unbuttoning your jacket with trembling fingers. You feel Dorian shift into sitting position as you toss the jacket somewhere in the room, you really don’t care. You had taken off your gloves and boots when you had arrived and you silently thank yourself for that. You grab the hem of the undershirt and quickly pull it off and throw it somewhere else. Your hair is probably a mess now, but you don’t let yourself dwell on that because you hear Dorian’s breath catch and feel his dick twitch.  
  
You had seen each other without clothes, of course, but this time it’s different. For one, you both at least had smallclothes on and you both weren’t aroused, and there were other people around as well. Now, it’s private, and you’re both allowed to fully take each other in. His lips are parted and his dark gaze roams over your form freely and hungrily, taking in every scar and every patch of freckles. You feel... vulnerable, exposed, and you have force your hands to stay at your sides so you don’t cover yourself like a blushing virgin from some poorly written and generic erotica.  
  
His fingers lightly touch your waist and skim upward, tracing shapes along your skin. His hands are warm, and you let out another sigh, your body relaxing under his touch. He stops at your chest, staring intently at the gold buds between your nipples. You remember how flustered he got when he first saw them, and as tempted as you are to push out your chest and let him play with them, you’re the only one that’s somewhat clothed and that has to change.  
  
You give him a quick kiss and rest your forehead against his, “As much as I love you appreciating me, I’m pretty sex is done without clothes on.”  
  
Dorian laughs, “I’m pretty sure it can be done with clothes on, dear Quire,” You climb off his lap and rest against the headboard, legs crossed. He watches you for a moment, his eyes darting downward towards your crotch for a split second before meeting your gaze again, “But, you are the Inquisitor, so I have no choice but to follow your orders.”  
  
“Call me Inquisitor one more time and I’ll lock you out in the balcony,” You say with a grin, making sure he knows that you’re only partially serious.  
  
He laughs again, Maker you love that sound, as he starts unbuckling his uniform, “Threatening me now? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re going mad with power.”  
  
“Have you ever tried going mad without power?” You reply while watching elegant fingers work and slowly reveal more skin that you just want to kiss, “It’s terrible. No one listens to you.”  
  
“True enough,” He says, popping off the last buckle and peeling back his clothes, turning around to toss it onto the couch. He faces you again and spreads his arms out, presenting himself in just his pants and his boots. You were surprised before, you’re surprised again. Dorian is oddly fit and has hair. Hair on his chest, hair on his back, hair on his pretty muscular arms, hair beneath his navel that trails down beneath his breeches and you really want those off.  
  
“I want those off,” You mutter and you hear Dorian chuckle and he climbs over towards you. He takes your unmarked wrist and guides it over his stomach, letting you feel the toned muscles and the occasional scar, stopping at the ties of his breeches, your hand now dangerously close to his erection.  
  
“If you want to,” He whispers, voice rough and deep, “You most certainly can.”  
  
Well if that isn’t consent then you’re a nug.  
  
You yank your hand out of his grasp and immediately untie the strings and start tugging them down. He pushes your hands back and shifts so he can sit at the edge of the bed and, in a series of surely practiced moves, kicks off his boots and curls his legs up in an impressive show of ab strength and pulls his breeches and smallclothes off in one swoop and let’s them drop to the ground.  
  
His legs lower to the bed’s edge again and holy shit that’s his dick. That’s his erect dick. You couldn’t see it in his previous position, his legs blocking the view, but now you can. That’s his dick. That’s his dick and his balls between his legs and there’s even hair around it and _that’s his dick_.  
  
You want to lick it.  
  
He looks like he wants to say something smug but before he can you’re practically jumping off the bed, moving his breeches aside and kneeling on the floor between his knees. Your hands lock onto his hips and you start kissing and biting everywhere. His thighs, his hip bones, his stomach; your thoughts are losing coherency as your own cock twitches beneath your breeches and it has really, really been too long.  
  
You hear Dorian’s breath catch and feel his hand run through your hair. That reminds you of something very important and you pull back a bit, making him hiss through his teeth at the sudden loss. You feel bad, but saying this now will leave out awkwardness later.  
  
“Don’t pull too hard,” You say, panting a bit yourself as your gazes meet, “I’m fine with light tugging. Also, don’t try and mess with my ears.”  
  
Before he has time to question, you’re back in, one hand moving to hold the base of his cock as you lick up the length of it in short, firm strokes, tasting salt and sweat and you moan again and Dorian gasps above you. When you reach the head, you take a second to admire it before it twitches under your gaze. You bite back a laugh and run your tongue around it, your eyes fluttering closed. There’s a small moment of anxiety that reminds you _hey, it’s been a really long time, do you even remember how to do this?_ and before you can allow yourself to get caught up in it, you open your mouth and take his cock in.  
  
Dorian’s hips cant up and he groans, both hands in your hair now. You put your hand back on his waist to keep him still and you take a moment to savor this: the feeling of his cock hardening and twitching over your tongue, the taste, the smell of arousal filling your lungs, Dorian’s labored breathing above you and his trembling fingers. If your mouth weren’t full of dick, you’d smile.  
  
But it is full of dick and your moment is over. You start slowly moving up and down his shaft, tongue running along the underside, trying to keep your teeth out of the way and get the rhythm going. He lets out more gasps, some that sound pretty close to your name. It fills you with confidence and arousal and you moan around his cock, picking up the pace, letting out groans that vibrate around him.  
  
It’s not the most elegant blowjob you’ve ever given; your teeth scrape his dick on more than one occasion and you can feel saliva dripping down your chin. But Dorian seems to like it, if the gasps and groans are anything to go off of. Your hands do a pretty good job of keeping him from bucking into you, and your cock is still hard and trapped in your pants and it takes a huge amount of effort to not slip one of your hands under and let go. Mostly because you’re pretty sure if you even brush your fingers against it you’ll cum immediately.  
  
This is about Dorian.  
  
Whose cock you have fully in your mouth. Wow. You weren’t even fully paying attention. You move your thumbs down a bit and sure enough, you can feel your lips around the base. Another wave of arousal shoots through you and you moan around him.  
  
You feel his hips trying to move against your mouth and you realize you haven’t moved. You start the rhythm again, Dorian’s moans becoming much louder and somewhat higher pitched. You can feel a sort of bitter tasting sliminess starting to coat your tongue and slide down your throat. You recognize the taste. Precum. You instinctively swallow around him and his hips buck again.  
  
Well, now that you know you can take him down and not choke...  
  
Your hands leave his hips and you pull back until just the head is left. You open your eyes, finding his gaze locked on yours and shit, that makes it hotter. You groan, taking him in more, hoping he’ll take a hint and you don’t have to pull away and tell him that he can fuck your face now, “thank you for your patience messere”.  
  
He moves his hands to the sides of your head, just above your ears, and grips your hair and experimentally thrusts into your mouth. You try to nod, moaning in confirmation and that causes him to gasp and throw his head back and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and starts thrusting for real.  
  
Your knees are beginning to hurt but that’s the last thing on your mind as his cock pushes in and out of your mouth in a fast, uneven pace and you keep moaning and he keeps moaning and you feel tears start to well up in your eyes. You’re about to drop your hands to your cock and give in when Dorian suddenly leans over you, thrusts stuttering.  
  
Now that you aren’t spacing out, you can actually hear him.  
  
“Ah... _Ah_... Quire... Fuck... _Fuck_ , _fuck_ , Quire, so _good_ , so g-” His voice chokes off into a gasp and your heart is racing from the praise, from composed and pretty Dorian sounding so broken, and you moan one last time, your hips thrust against air, and that’s it.  
  
His grip on you hair become a vice as he shoves your head down his cock and pins you there and he cums with a rhapsody of loud moans. It’s right in your throat and you quickly swallow it down, trying not to choke because that’s bad manners. His hips occasionally cant, as if they’re trying to go deeper, and you just sit there, letting him ride through his orgasm.  
  
Eventually, his grip loosens, and you manage to wiggle out of his grasp, his now flaccid dick leaving your mouth with an obscene pop. He falls onto the bed, panting like he just ran up twenty flights of stairs. You take this moment to finally untie your breeches and shove them and your smalls down to your ankles, where you gracelessly kick them off and climb onto the bed beside Dorian.  
  
There’s silence in the room, only filled by Dorian’s labored breathing and the distant calls of crows. You’re not sure if it’s a good kind or a bad kind.  
  
Your dick says it’s the bad kind and also it needs attention _now_.  
  
“Figured you’d turn out to be a pillow princess,” You finally say even though your throat is kind of fucked up and your voice sounds super gravelly.  
  
He lets out a snort, “Tevinter does not make pillow princesses, thank you very much.”  
  
“But they do make alcoholics and raging homophobia?”  
  
“Precisely,” Dorian sits up, gaze dropping to your very hard cock, before looking at you and murmuring, “But, there is one other thing I picked up.”  
  
“Horrible fashion sense?” You reply, smirking.

He stares at you with absolute apaul. It makes you laugh, nearly falling over the bed in your glee.

Except the silence lasts longer than it should.  
  
You’re about to apologize when your wrists are grabbed and in a flash you’re on your back with Dorian above you. Your cock gives a weak twitch and you can feel a bead of pre-cum leak from the tip.  
  
“I was going to suggest a way to take care of your... _situation_ ,” His knee shifts between your legs, and you let out a pathetic whimper and you haven’t even been touched and you’re close, “But if you think so little of me, then I suppose I could leave and you could continue your Inquisitor business.”

The words would be hurtful, if it weren’t for the smile on his face.

  
Ah, there he is. You lift your head to kiss him, light and playful, the taste of his cum still on your lips, before you pull away.  
  
“Won’t you pwease stay, Dowian?” You plead in a high pitched voice that cracks a bit but it’s worth it when Dorian just looks down at you and sighs in annoyance and disappointment.  
  
You’re laughing again, but you immediately stop when he lets go of your wrists and climbs off you. “Sit up,” He commands, his tone stern.  
  
You oblige, even though you’re confused. Is this bad? Is this a punishment? Oh Creators, Dorian wasn’t one of those hardcore BDSM whips and cock cages people, was he? He didn’t seem like the type, but maybe it was a weird coping mechanism or-  
  
He loops his arms around your waist and presses you against his chest. You can feel his still limp dick against your tailbone, and he rests his chin against your shoulder.  
  
“Elves really are hairless everywhere, I see...” He murmurs, his hand roaming up your body and stopping just below your nipple. He gently taps the gold caps keeping it in place, and you let out a sigh.  
  
“If you’re thinking it’s some kind of device that enhances sexual pleasure when my nipple is touched, I’m sorry to say it’s not,” You say when he keeps messing with your nipple, “Meanwhile, there is somewhere else where I can feel sexual pleasure and I would like that to be touched please.”  
  
Dorian hums, “Really? Is it here?” He bites your neck and you gasp, “Or here, perhaps?” His teeth gently tug at your earlobe and they jerk away. Smug bastard just laughs.  
  
“Cock. It’s my cock,” You hiss out, quickly becoming annoyed, “Touch my cock or I’ll open a rift right in this room and I’ll _shove_ _y_ -”  
  
You moan in relief when Dorian’s hand finally wraps around your dick. The heat’s bubbling up way too quick, and you clutch his knees as he starts leisurely stroking.  
  
“Dori... _Dori_... Oh, yes, tighter, tighter...”  
  
“Who knew Andraste’s Herald was so loud in bed?” He chuckles, turning to bite your neck as his hand twists right around the head and you almost scream.  
  
“Dori, Dori, yes, _like_ _that_ , yes,” You chant, eyes squeezed shut, your whole body trembling. This is going to end way too soon but you honestly don’t care.  
  
“Would you be this vocal if I fucked you?” Dorian murmurs into your ear. You feel yourself flush even deeper and your cock spills out more precum, the wetness creating obscene slapping sounds.  
  
You’re so close.  
  
“Yes, yes, fuck me,” You pant, a familiar curl beginning to form in your stomach and you officially lose all control over your words, “Fuck me, pound me, fill me, have it dripping down my thighs, _oh_ , lick it out of me after, force me to taste it, oh, fuck, _FUCK_!”  
  
With that, you arch your back and let out a yowl and you’re cumming. All you can feel are the waves of pleasure and relief flowing through you, the hoarseness of your throat as you moan every time one crashes through you, Dorian’s thumb rubbing across the head to coax it out. For a few seconds, all you can feel is fuzz.  
  
And then the fuzz fades and you limply fall back against the mattress with a sigh-  
  
Wait. The mattress? Where’s Dorian?  
  
You want to call out, but your voice is absolutely done and your brain is still trying to reboot. So, that was it? Just fuck and leave? Not even a goodbye, or even a glance? It wasn’t a new thing for you, but that didn’t mean it hurt less.

  
“Alright, up you go,” You hear him say, lifting your chest up and putting some pillows against your back. He didn’t leave.  
  
“You didn’t leave,” You choke out.  
  
“You think remarkably little of me,” He says with no real venom and hands you a warm mug, “Drink. It’ll help you get your voice back. Afterward when you can feel your legs we can either go for round two or take a bath. Or both.”  
  
You chuckle and bring the mug to your lips. It’s warm, milky and it tastes like honey and something else that gives it a hint of spice. It feels good against your throat.  
  
“So you’re staying?” You ask, voice still croaky.  
  
“If you’ll have me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to the Fenhawke server for convincing me to post this to AO3 my anxiety tells me it’s bad but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Also the title of the doc is “Elf Twunk Sucks Dicc” and I really wanted to keep that title


End file.
